


i'll be the one (if you want me to)

by the_nvisiblegirl



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Soft avalance, Tears, so many tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_nvisiblegirl/pseuds/the_nvisiblegirl
Summary: “He’s gone.” It’s barely more than a whisper. She looks so broken. Helpless. Small. So different from her usual strong, confident self that Ava just stares at her for a moment—at the woman she loves more than anything else in the world. “They’re all gone.”(Or: Sara is trying to come to terms with Oliver's death. Ava is there to comfort her.)
Relationships: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	i'll be the one (if you want me to)

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, I wrote this in about thirty minutes at 4AM last night. I don't know where it came from but the words just needed to come out, I guess. It's a slightly different style to how I normally write, but it works. Maybe? Let me know.
> 
> Enjoy, punks!

It’s a week after Sara’s return from the crossover—Kevin and his film crew have left and they’ve repackaged Rasputin into six individual jars—and Ava is pretty sure they are still fighting. Well, not fighting per se, but they’re definitely in the middle of some kind of _something_. The usual easy comfort of their relationship replaced with tense silence. Sara seems withdrawn, tired. It must have something to do with Oliver Queen’s death, Ava is sure of it, but she doesn’t know how to approach the situation. It seems like a minefield. There is so much history there she knows absolutely nothing about and now doesn’t seem like the right time to start asking questions. She’s still afraid to say the wrong thing, to make the pain Sara is obviously in worse. Even after her little speech back in imperial Russia. So, instead, she is paralyzed by her fear—and she stays quiet.

They still talk. About mundane things. Unimportant things. Condiment budgets. Mission logistics. The weather. They also still have sex, but she can feel that Sara’s thoughts are miles away even when she’s three fingers deep inside her. Sara doesn’t sleep. Neither does Ava. They just lie next to each other in bed, staring at the ceiling. Ava can practically feel Sara thinking; she wants to say something—anything—but the words won’t come out. In the morning, she looks at herself in the mirror and winces when she sees the ever-deepening bags beneath her eyes. She looks like shit.

Once she’s dressed she tells Sara she’ll go downstairs to make breakfast and, after a brief moment of hesitation, kisses Sara’s temple. “I love you.” The “I love you, too” she gets in response is quiet and monotonous. Well, at least it’s there.

Twenty minutes later Sara still hasn’t joined her in the kitchen, which she knows can’t be a good sign. She goes upstairs. Sara isn’t in bed any longer, the sheets crumbled at the bottom of the mattress. The sound of the shower running draws her attention and she turns toward the en-suite.

“Sara?” No answer. “Babe, are you ok?” Nothing.

She carefully opens the door. Inside, the air is heavy and damp, the glass of the shower fogged up from the heat of the water. It takes her a second to make out Sara. On the floor. Legs drawn to her chest. She’s shaking.

It’s the first time Ava’s seen her cry. Her heart clenches in her chest as she hurries across the room and drops to her knees in front of Sara. Her pants are soaked immediately but she doesn’t care, not when Sara is sobbing on the floor of her shower. She reaches out, hand carefully tucking Sara’s wet hair behind her ear. “Baby. Hey.” Sara looks up. Her eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, tears on her cheeks mingling with droplets of water. Her bottom lip wobbles. “He’s gone.” It’s barely more than a whisper. She looks so broken. Helpless. Small. So different from her usual strong, confident self that Ava just stares at her for a moment—at the woman she loves more than anything else in the world. “They’re all gone.”

Sara starts crying again then, violent sobs racking her entire body and before Ava can think too much about what to do her instincts kick in. She pulls Sara toward her, onto her lap, wraps her arms around her and pulls her as tightly to her chest as she can before she starts gently rocking back and forth. At this point, her entire outfit is soaked through, wet fabric sticking uncomfortably to her skin. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except Sara. “Shh, I got you. I’m here, Sara. I’m here.” Her fingers move to Sara’s hair, gently combing trough it. She presses her lips to Sara’s forehead.

The shower is still running, water that has long since gone cold splashing onto both of them. Without letting go she reaches up to turn it off. Sara doesn’t seem to notice.

Ava doesn’t know how long they stay like this, damp and cold on the tiles, Sara in her lap, fingers desperately clawing at her shirt. She has stopped sobbing but tears are still falling from her eyes. She starts to shiver. Right, time to get up.

“Let’s get you dried off, baby. Can you stand?” Sara doesn’t react. Somehow, Ava manages to stand up in one smooth motion, Sara in her arms. She carries her out of the shower and gently sets her down on the bath mat in front of the sink. She grabs a towel from the back of the door. It’s big and white and fluffy and she starts running it over Sara’s skin. First her shoulders, her arms, her chest. Then her back. Her ass. Her legs. When she’s done, she wraps the whole thing around Sara before walking her out of the bathroom and back to the bed.

“Lay down, baby.” Sara complies.

Realizing her clothes are still soaking wet she takes them off before climbing onto the bed and reaching for Sara. Arm around her torso. Nose in her damp hair. Sara’s fingers close tightly around Ava’s hand resting against her diaphragm as she settles into her position as the little spoon.

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can never leave.”

“I love you.”

Another sob.

Ava pulls Sara even closer.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Sara stays quiet, doesn't return the words this time, but she pulls their intertwined hands up to her lips, pressing a kiss against Ava’s knuckles. Ava smiles into her hair.

They still haven’t talked about anything even when Ava is sure—now more than ever—they really should. But Sara is exhausted. _She_ is exhausted. They can talk about this later. For now, Sara’s solid weight against her chest is enough to reassure her that they will make it through. That they will come out on the other side of this stronger than ever because they love each other—even when Ava doesn’t know what to say and Sara bottles up her feelings and they cry together on the cold, hard floor of the shower.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
> As always, I would love to know what you think, so tell me in the comments.


End file.
